


The nights and the days of the years

by resurrection



Category: BTOB
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 04:38:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15259614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resurrection/pseuds/resurrection
Summary: Title taken from "As The Poems Go" by Charles Bukowski





	The nights and the days of the years

**Author's Note:**

> My first btob fic; do give me constructive criticism if you wish!

The human heart is a strange vessel. Love and hatred can exist side by side. -- Scott Westerfeld

 

\----

 

Changsub cannot believe the audacity of Yook Sungjae.

 

He has always known that their younger is wild, to the extent that he could be mistaken as crazy, if one didn’t see his softer, normal side. 

 

But now, there is no other word to describe him apart from ‘crazy’.

 

“Sungjae! Get away from the edge!” Eunkwang’s voice is shrill, and Changsub almost wants to cover his ears, but he is frozen. 

 

Sungjae is so, so close, to the edge, and there’s nothing behind him, except for an expanse of blue that Changsub wants to rip Sungjae away from.

 

Sungjae doesn’t even say a word, merely smiles so widely that for a split second, all Changsub can see is the lift of his cheekbones, the whiteness of his teeth; the setting sun in the background is outshone.

 

Then Sungjae turns and leaps off the cliff.

 

Changsub screams.

 

\---

 

He is rudely awakened by Ilhoon.

 

“Hyung, get up, it’s 1pm already! If you sleep any more you will die!”

 

“Ilhoon, what  _ utter  _ bullshit,” Changsub grumbles but climbs out of bed willingly. Ilhoon somehow ended up sharing his bed yesterday night, after a rough night of drinking. Usually Changsub would drink alone, or with his other friends, but they need to lay low for now, so he and Ilhoon went to a convenience store down the street and quite literally bought out their entire stock of beer. They had spent almost four hours comparing tastes of different brands of beer when paired with spicy chicken stew, the beer becoming warmer as the stew became colder, hours passing in a blur.

 

Ilhoon looks surprisingly fresh, and honestly Changsub’s head isn’t throbbing as much as he thought it would. He’s bobbing his head to some unheard music as he tidies up the bed, and Changsub is almost perturbed at the sight of such a docile, domestic Ilhoon, then he remembers the dream, and today’s date.

 

Ah, that explains the inexplicable need to drink yesterday.

 

“Eunkwang hyung says we will be going at 3pm, then we can head back for dinner. Minhyuk hyung is cooking up a storm. Smells good, doesn’t it?” Changsub then realises that the smell is Minhyuk’s amazing braised pork trotters. If he listens hard enough, he can hear Eunkwang manually making the kimchi with his own hands, the loud slaps of cabbage against the tub, interjected with laughter from the rest. He can almost see Hyunsik’s eyesmile.

 

“I had a dream last night. About Sungjae, again.”

 

Ilhoon stops his movements. “How… how was it this time?”

 

Changsub is calm. It’s not the first time anyway. “This time he jumped off a cliff.”

 

He’s been making up scenarios in his sleep over the years, with regards to Sungjae’s disappearance. Sometimes it’s a variation of a kidnapping, sometimes it’s outright murder from their enemies, sometimes it’s the sound of Sungjae’s father’s disappointed voice, telling him to stop his nonsense and to return home at once. Changsub has gotten used to it. He’s always been adaptable to changes.

 

(Though some may argue that these dreams are a sign of him being unable to adapt to Sungjae’s disappearance, even though it has been so many years.)

 

They exit the bedroom and head downstairs, and true enough, Eunkwang is surrounded by newspapers and a bright red tub full of freshly made kimchi sits in front of him. His hair is a mess and his cheeks are red from exhaustion and chilli paste. Hyunsik is beside him, quietly nagging him every now and then. 

 

“Changsub! Ilhoon! I was wondering if the two of you were going to break the record and sleep until dinner time! You even missed lunch! Come, come, eat up!” Eunkwang’s voice booms from the other end of the living room. He holds out a hefty amount of kimchi and Ilhoon naturally eats it all up, straight from his hand.

 

“Wow, Ilhoon, good job, now Eunkwang hyung has to change his gloves or he will poison the kimchi with your spit,” Changsub complains, but he himself takes a bite from Eunkwang’s hand. The glove has to be changed, anyway.

 

Eunkwang bustles off to change his gloves, and Hyunsik takes over his spot readily, bright red gloves covering his arms up till his elbows.

 

“Hyunsik hyung, where’s Peniel hyung?” Ilhoon asks, while plopping down on the sofa.

 

“He went to walk Penny,” Hyunsik replies, then looks at Changsub, “Hyung, we will be going at 3.”

 

Changsub nods, “Yeah, Ilhoon told me.”

 

They set up a memorial for Sungjae three years ago, a year after he disappeared. Eunkwang said it was to give them a peace of mind, some place to visit and to remember Sungjae, not that they didn’t have him in their hearts already. Changsub remembers protesting violently for all of two minutes, then giving in abruptly when logic eventually takes over.

 

It was time to move on anyway, and the memorial cemented that fact.

 

Minhyuk comes out of the kitchen and brightens up when he sees the rest. “Ah, good morning to the two sleeping fools. Go wash up and eat some ramen; it’s almost time to leave, then we can come back and have a proper dinner.”

 

Ilhoon immediately runs for the bathroom while Changsub frowns. “There are three bathrooms in this house, you idiot! No use running for them!”

 

Ilhoon actually stops in his tracks to look back at Changsub. “Oh my god, I forgot.”

 

Upon hearing this, Changsub throws his head back and laughs so hard that he doubles over and wheezes. It is during moments like this, Changsub remembers nothing but the good times, and can’t help but feel so loved and so, so lucky— regardless of their youngest, this group has been the best thing to happen to him in this life. 

 

\---

 

Time seems to pass in a flash, yet Changsub remembers everything clearly-- the steam emanating off the ramen, the crunch of the freshly made kimchi in his mouth, Penny jumping on him after coming back from the walk, the feel of the leather seats in his new sports car, the wind as he drives with the rest following closely behind…

 

He feels as if he has just climbed out of bed with Ilhoon when he finally gets out of the car. Eunkwang has stuffed a small bouquet of flowers into his hands and insisted he take it. Ilhoon leads them to the plaque. As they all crowd around the plaque, an uncharacteristic silence falls.

 

Changsub stares at the cool white marble of the memorial plaque, and in that instant he doesn’t know how he can stand here with all the hatred bubbling up in him, threatening to overflow. He hates Sungjae so much for ruining their precarious balance-- they had a plan, they were ready to break free together, but now, four years after he left they are still stuck at the exact same spot, not knowing where to go and what to do, and Changsub hates,  _ absolutely hates _ , Yook Sungjae for this.

 

“We don’t deserve this, your abandonment…” Changsub whispers as he sits down in front of the plaque, “Yook Sungjae, I hope you rot wherever you are. How dare you leave us behind.” 

 

The fight leaves Changsub as quickly as it came to him, and he slumps against the plaque, cheek pressed against the marble. He cannot understand, but he also cannot blame. 

 

_ So here goes another year, _ Changsub thinks,  _ another year with no resolution and no escape for us. _

 

He thinks that after the presence of Sungjae in his life, and his subsequent disappearance, he understands the capacity of the human heart now: to be so full of love yet still have enough space for tendrils of hate to wrap itself firmly around the love, and it has always been Sungjae who drags all these unknown, unexplored feelings out of him. He almost chuckles at how Sungjae, despite his disappearance, is still capable of making him learn and grow and experience.  _ Always, always, such a wonderful boy, in spite of everything. _

 

He presses his palm flat against the plaque and tilts his head up. The sky is so blue today; not a single cloud to be seen, and the breeze is gentle. Maybe somewhere, at some place, Sungjae is able to see them.

 

He removes his hand and stands up slowly, dusting off his pants. The rest of them shuffle about, waiting for Changsub’s cue to go.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

He hopes he can let go, for both his and Sungjae’s sake.


End file.
